Return to Marker Ranch (6 page)

“See you this afternoon, then.” His voice was quiet, his reserve back.

“Yup” was all she could get out. She turned Dakota away, trying to breathe through the whirlpool of feelings. Regret, shame, old anger and the newest, unwelcome addition to the general chaos of her emotional life: excitement. This partnership meant they'd be spending more time together. And against all common sense, a part of her was happy about that.

 

CHAPTER EIGHT

C
ANCELING
THE
WATER
truck was a huge relief. But driving onto Wade's ranch to help with the injections brought on a whole other kind of stress. How was she going to handle seeing him regularly? The rutted driveway jolted some sense into her.
You're a mentor. So just treat him the way you'd treat any other rancher in the area who needed some help.

Ha. Maybe she could pull it off on the outside. She could talk cattle and keep it professional. But that wouldn't stop her insides from churning with nerves. Or keep her traitorous heart from noticing his beauty and remembering all the things she'd loved about him when they were young.

She parked her truck and grabbed her tool belt from the back, buckling it tight around her hips. Shoving her hat on her head to block the afternoon sun, she headed toward the dilapidated barn. Wade was around the side of it, leaning on the fence, staring at his cattle. They were a sorry lot. Listless.

He turned when he heard her footsteps, giving her a weak smile. “Thanks for coming. Here are my sick girls.” He frowned and turned back toward the heifers. “I hate that my ignorance did this.”

His ignorance.
She had a lot of experience with the damage that could wreak. But he looked grateful, which put a pathetic sweetness onto his usually severe face.
No.
No noticing sweetness.
“It's no problem.”

He looked down at her waist. “You brought your tool belt? For injections?”

“We're not injecting yet. We're taking a look at your cattle chute first.”

“What's wrong with my chute?”

“I don't know.” She glanced around the run-down property. “Probably a lot. Trust me?”

“Sure. But I worked on the chute already. Take a look.” He walked her over. She could see where he'd replaced boards and pounded in loose nails that could tear hide. Maybe a year ago she'd have said it was fine. Now she knew better. “Do you have any plywood?”

“Sure.” He looked at her suspiciously. “Why?”

“If you want them to go in for injections calmly, we should board up the sides of your chute so they can't see out. Want to try it?”

“Lori Allen, Cow Whisperer. Is that what it says on your business card?”

Her own laugh surprised her. She had no idea he could be funny. “I don't have a business card. I just took a few classes.”

“I'll get the wood.” He headed off around the side of the barn, whistling. She tried to remember if he'd ever teased her like this, or whistled like this, when she'd known him years before. He'd been serious, hard and mysterious. That was probably why she'd been crazy about him. He'd been different. Opposite. A better kid than his brothers, but always teetering just on the edge of the dangerous cliff they'd plummeted down years before.

She'd been drawn to him, recognizing his softness and intelligence under that tough veneer during the rare opportunities they'd had to talk. And that wildness—that edge he walked—had been so compelling. Maybe because sometimes she wished
she
could do something a little wild.

Stop it.
She wasn't here to think about Wade, or the past. She was here to look at his cattle chute. And she could see a few problems already. An old wire dangled from the barn eaves, right before the chute ended in the stanchion. A piece of corrugated metal had been nailed to a post for some reason. She jumped up onto the rail and pulled out her hammer, using the claw end to pry it off.

Wade leaned a few sheets of plywood against the chute. “Why are you worrying about that?”

“The sun is hitting it.” The last nail popped out. “The glare can scare the cattle when they come into the chute. You have to remember that they're prey. Anything out of place frightens them.”

Lori showed him how to nail the plywood sheets along the sides of the chute, and he got to work. She listened to the rhythm of Wade pounding nails as she made her way to the wire. Climbing up the side of the chute, she pulled wire cutters out of her belt to remove the dangling ends. A simple fix for a potentially big problem. She wished all her difficulties could be solved with a quick snip of her wire cutters. One small cut and Wade and his ranch would disappear. But the thought made her sad—she didn't want him to disappear again, which was why this was all way too complicated.

Shaking her head at her own foolishness, she went to help Wade, holding the boards steady while he nailed. It was the first time in years she'd been so close to him, their bodies almost touching. She could almost feel his muscles flexing under his flannel shirt as he drove the nails in. It wasn't possible. They weren't touching. But the strength of him seemed to emanate with a tangible force. Maybe this was why she'd never dated much. What guy had she ever met could match Wade in sheer masculinity?

She shifted position so she was still holding the board but standing as far away from him as she could. He must have noticed, because he glanced her way with a wry smile curling his full lower lip. “I won't bite.”

Heat crept across her face. “I hope not,” she retorted. “But just in case, maybe I should work on the next board.” She turned away, grabbing a new piece of plywood and a handful of nails. It was better to work on her own section of the chute. Preferably one far away from Wade.

She positioned the wood and slammed the first nail in. She needed to be careful. Her heart had been trampled by this man, and here she was, ogling him the first moment they were alone together. She had to remember that all of the attraction she felt for him belonged to the stupid girl she'd been long ago. The woman she was now knew trouble when she saw it, and had the sense to keep her distance. Sure, she could notice he was good-looking. Who wouldn't? But she had to remember that it was like noticing a pretty desert wildflower or a nice view. It was easy on the eyes, but had no other significance whatsoever.

* * *

H
E
'
D
FORGOTTEN
HOW
sassy she could be. He liked it. He'd never met anyone like Lori—who could dish out smart comments and run a ranch and refurbish a cattle chute in half an hour. She had sweat on her face and dirt streaked across one cheek, and she was still gorgeous. And there was something about her in that tool belt. The old, worn leather, slung low on her hips, emphasized her curves there, her tiny waist above and the faded, fitted jeans below. But he didn't just admire how she looked. The sexiest part about Lori in a tool belt was the way she handled the tools with the confidence of someone who'd been using them all her life

He had to keep in mind that she was here because she was kind. The type of person who'd always try to help out a neighbor. And she was here because she needed the water in his well. Whatever he felt were just his feelings and had nothing to do with hers. It was a shame, but reality often was.

He walked over to where Lori was hammering in the last board. He held it steady for her, making sure to give her the space she obviously wanted.

“Ready to bring one through?” she asked, shoving the hammer back into her belt.

“Ready if you say we are.” No way was he even going to pretend he was in charge. She was here to work her magic, and his job was to stand back and learn from the master. And that was okay. He had a lot to learn.

It was ridiculously easy to get the cattle through now that the chute had solid sides. Lori showed him how to walk just outside a heifer's flight zone, using small motions to guide her. Just enough to keep her moving, not enough to frighten her.

Once a heifer was in the chute, Lori demonstrated how to slide the needle below the skin to deliver the medication. She made it look easy. Her comfort with it, and her calm, clear explanations, soon had him relaxed enough to do it on his own.

The setting sun lit the paddock in a rosy glow, but they kept working. By the time they sent the last heifer back to the pasture and threw out piles of alfalfa in hopes of tempting their appetites, it was deep dusk. Wade walked Lori back to her truck. He didn't want her to go. Ever since he'd left the army he'd sought solitude, but it was easy to be in her company. She was so confident, making all the ranch chores that were new to him seem commonplace. For the first time he felt like he might have a real chance to make Marker Ranch a success. With her help, at least he wouldn't totally mess it up.

Plus, there was the total miracle that she was actually here with him. Beautiful, perfect Lori Allen. She was like a clear, crisp spring day. The kind you wanted to go on forever.

She'd always been that for him. An oasis where he could escape from his Dad's anger and conniving, cowardly way of life. When they were young she'd been the only person, besides Nora, who'd seen the good in him. Nothing much, just small gestures when their paths crossed at school. He'd kept her as his oasis—or maybe his haven—when he'd been in Afghanistan. When he'd seen so much bad that it seemed there wasn't anything good left in the world, he'd think of Lori. Remembering her smile, with her pink lips parting over teeth like pearls. Or the way she'd squared her shoulders and lifted her chin a little higher when something needed to be done. He'd picture her tenderness toward her little sister. Mostly he'd think about how she looked at him with dark blue eyes that seemed to hold a bit of the dusky mountain sky inside. And the way it had felt to spend a night in her arms.

Living with the prospect of death around every corner put things in perspective. In long nights lying in his bunk, or on the ground when he was out on a mission, he'd had time to think about what he wanted in life. And he'd narrowed it down to three things. His family's ranch, time with his sister, Nora, and a chance to show Lori Allen the man he'd become. And for some reason, he was lucky enough that all three of those things might be coming true.

“Do you want to have dinner with me tonight?” The words were out before he'd realized he was going to say them.

“No.”

He shouldn't be surprised. But her answer was so quick, so definite, that it stung. She didn't even need a moment to consider.

“I mean, no thanks, Wade.” He could hear the apology and something else in her rushed tone. “Mandy's cooking. I wouldn't want to be rude and make another plan.”

“It's no problem,” Wade assured her, glad the deepening night hid the flush he was sure was on his cheeks. He wished there was a way to take the question back, because now it hung there, making things awkward when they'd been so good just a moment ago. “Thanks again for your help tonight.”

“You're welcome.” She shrugged. “Hey, I need that water.”

“Right.” He had to remember that this was a business arrangement for her. Not a friendship. That she didn't see him the way he saw her. She'd never needed him for an oasis or a haven or anything.

“So is it okay to have Bill start working on the well?” she asked. “I'll have his guys start laying the pipe down.”

“Sure.” Her eagerness to get started was one more reminder that her help today had been a simple trade.

She climbed lightly up into her pickup, and he closed the door behind her. The window was down. She leaned her forearm on the frame, gazing up at him. “Look, Wade. I'm glad things are a little better between us. I'm fine helping you out with your ranch, and I'm glad that we're solving the water issue.”

She paused and he filled in the silence. “I'm glad, too.”

“When you left Benson, you said some really hurtful things.”

He winced at the memory. “I have wanted to apologize for them ever since.”

She held up a palm to stop him. “Look, it was years ago. I don't need that. But I got hurt then. It was hard for me. And I don't want to go back there. I mean, I guess what I'm trying to say is that going to dinner...well, it would be too much.”

“I understand.” And he did. He'd hurt her. How could he blame her for wanting to keep that door closed between them? “I just appreciate you being willing to help me out like this.”

She sat up a little straighter, reached for the ignition. “All right, then.”

“All right.” He wished she didn't look so relieved about this little chat. He wished he didn't feel so disappointed “Good night, Lori.”

She smiled briefly. A little sadly, he thought. “Good night, Wade.”

He stood there in the dark, watching her taillights rock back and forth as she navigated the pockmarked drive. Watched them until she rounded the corner and disappeared, taking the light with her.

 

CHAPTER NINE

L
ORI
TUGGED
AWKWARDLY
at the dress her sister had insisted she borrow. The cool night air tingled on her skin as she and Mandy crossed the gravel parking lot behind the High Country Sports Bar. She was so used to her jeans, boots and a T-shirt that anything else just felt odd. Especially this dress, which was short, and pale blue and very fitted. Every time she looked down, she was a little shocked by all the cleavage it revealed.

Mandy had also blown out Lori's hair and styled it in relaxed curls, put makeup on her and added a nice bracelet. Lori's only contribution to her outfit was a pair of cowboy boots with pink roses up the sides that she rarely got to wear. No way was she going to put on the high-heeled sandals Mandy had pulled out.

She felt kind of silly, but Mandy had promised her that she looked gorgeous. And the stranger she saw when she looked in the mirror earlier
was
pretty. Lori could admit that. But she so rarely dressed up, all that pretty seemed like it belonged to someone else.

Mandy gave her a nervous smile and pulled open the door of the bar. Music flooded around them. “Well, here we go!” she said in a bright voice. The kind of voice you'd use with children on their first day of school. Or when you were trying to talk yourself into the idea that something would be fun.

They made their way across the room. The dance floor was packed, and the bar was crowded at least two deep. “Why don't you go find Sunny and everyone and I'll get the beers?” Lori offered.

Mandy nodded and drifted off toward the tables. Lori made her way to the bar, getting jostled by people who were leaving with drinks, and jostled again as people who were taller than her pushed past. Even in her boots she barely made five foot four, and she was just about to resort to using her elbows on the ribs of the people pushing past her when a large hand closed over her shoulder. She started and looked up at a whole new version of Wade—his dark brown hair combed out, a black T-shirt stretched tight over his broad chest. He looked a lot different than the hot and dusty cowboy she'd helped out yesterday. He cleaned up well. Very well.

“You need some help?”

His words cut low through the music and rolled over her skin. It was a little hard to find her voice. “I can't get a drink. I'm too short.”

“You're perfect.” He looked startled at his own words. “I mean, you look great...the dress...” His eyes strayed momentarily down her body, then back. “You look amazing,” he finished, and she realized he was flustered.

That was kind of nice. The unflappable Wade Hoffman was tongue-tied. Maybe Mandy
had
known what she was doing when she put together this outfit.

“Let me help you out here,” he said and reached for her hand. His was warm and wrapped firmly around hers as he walked them past the people who had just cut in front of her. With his military stature and stern expression, they all moved aside for him without question. She followed in his wake, taking in his strong back, the way his jeans fit so perfectly over his...

“What are you drinking?” Wade's question pulled her eyes up to his face, and she saw the flash of amusement there. He'd caught her checking him out. Her skin felt warm, but she tried to play it cool. “Two pilsners, please.”

Wade met the bartender's eyes over the heads of others and before Lori knew it, she had a bottle in each hand. “Anything else I can do?” His gaze fixed intently on her face as if her answer was all that mattered. Or maybe he was just trying really hard not to notice her cleavage again. It didn't matter. It was impossible to look away when his dark eyes were locked on hers, and she was grateful for the beers filling her hands. If they'd been free, she would have traced her finger along the sculpted line of his lip.

Enough.
This was her being stupid around Wade Hoffman. That was just what she did. An old bad habit. “Can you see my sister from up there?” Lori had to stand on tiptoes and shout it into his ear—someone had turned the music up. The spice of his aftershave filled her senses. She stepped backward, bumping into someone behind her and almost spilled the beers.

“Steady there,” Wade's hands were on her arms, making sure she had her balance. He kept them there while he scanned the room, and it felt good. Grounding. What would it feel like if he pulled her close? If she could just lean on him and let his strength hold her up. It had been forever since she'd had that luxury. “She's over there.” He pointed to the back corner of the bar. “With a bunch of other women.”

“Thanks, Wade.” She stepped out from under his hand reluctantly.

“You're welcome.”

It was her cue to walk away. But she didn't, because he was watching her as if he wanted to say more. And she was rooted to the ground because, deep down, she wanted to hear it. She had to remember that this moment was nothing. A quick little fantasy that had nothing to do with the reality of them. That no matter how nice this was, he was the guy who'd hurt her. Her worst mistake. The reason she'd tried so hard to avoid mistakes ever since. “Well, thanks,” she said, raising the beer bottles vaguely in his direction.

“Anytime.”

“Oh, good. Have fun tonight.”

“You, too.” He raised his beer in a small salute. “Come find me if you need someone tall.”

“Thanks. It's always useful to have a tall friend.”
Ugh.
Why couldn't she think of something better to say? She took a swallow of one of the beers. If she was going to be that socially inept, at least she should have some alcohol in her system to blame it on.

She made her way carefully through the crowd, trying not to spill any beer on Mandy's dress. Trying to get used to the idea that from now on she'd run into Wade in the local bar. Or in the grocery store. Or at town events. Thank goodness she didn't get out much, because she didn't
want
to run into him. She'd worked so hard, for so long, to put everything that had happened between them behind her. But the way her heart was pounding right now showed her just how unsuccessful she'd been.

* * *

L
ORI
WAS
THE
most beautiful woman in the bar. The most beautiful woman he'd seen anywhere. Wade tried to focus on his game of pool and what Todd was telling him about the horse he was training. But his eyes kept drifting back to Lori over at her table, chatting with her girlfriends. What did she talk about when she wasn't talking about cattle?

She was a magnet for him. He'd noticed her the moment she'd followed her sister into the bar, and when he'd gotten over his initial jaw-on-the-floor reaction to the way she looked in that dress, he'd realized she'd needed some help at the bar.

And he'd practically sprinted across the room to be the one to offer.

But what had surprised him was how easy it felt. He'd always felt kind of awkward out at bars. He was too honest and blunt to be good at pickup lines, and he'd never mastered small talk. But with Lori's hand in his, her voice sweet in his ear with her drink order, he'd felt like he was right where he was supposed to be.

When he finished bungling his shot, he glanced up again and saw Lori out on the floor, laughing with her sister in a line dance. Everyone always said that Mandy was the pretty one, but to Wade she looked like Goldilocks—pale, simple and sweet. It was Lori who radiated beauty. She always had. There was so much life glowing from within her. With her wide, friendly smile, her deep blue eyes, her hair streaked with sunlight, she outshone any other woman on the dance floor.

He was used to Lori in jeans and a T-shirt. Tonight her cheeks were flushed, and that blue dress set off the gold of her skin. It showcased a lot more, too. And he wasn't the only guy in the bar who'd noticed. Not by a long shot. Envy coiled in his gut every time someone looked her way, which was pretty much every thirty seconds. All night she'd had attention—a few men stopped by her table, asking her to dance. He'd been happy she'd refused them all, but not surprised. That was Lori. If she was on a girls' night out, than it was all about her girlfriends. She wasn't the type to desert them just because some guy was checking her out.

“You know you haven't stopped staring at her all night.” His future brother-in-law, Todd, elbowed him and handed him a new beer. “Why don't you just go talk to her?”

Wade took a pull from the bottle. “I already did. That's Lori, the one I told you about who helped me with the heifers.”

Todd raised an eyebrow. “The one whose water you swiped?”

“I didn't swipe it. Not intentionally.”

“You also didn't mention that she was gorgeous.”

“No, I didn't. Because she's just a friend.” She'd made that abundantly clear the other evening. Though maybe, just maybe, she'd felt something more between them over by the bar tonight. It seemed like she'd been checking him out a little. He hoped so.

“I don't get it,” Todd said. “If you like her, just tell her.”

Tell her what? That he'd always been crazy about her? Or that he was damaged? That war had turned him into a weakling who could barely hold it together in a noisy bar? “I screwed it up a long time ago. I don't think she's interested.” Wade took another drink and then turned back to the pool table. “Come on, it's your turn.”

Playing pool was simple. Better to stick with that than to stare at Lori. Sometimes he felt as if he'd been watching her like this, with this intense longing, his entire life. And as always, he had no idea what he needed to do to be worthy of her regard.

But he couldn't concentrate on the game. Lori was dancing again. Then he bumped into a few guys he used to hang out with in high school, so there were some back slaps and
hey, how you been
s. It was kind of nice to know that a few people seemed happy to have him back in town. When he glanced up, Lori was back at her table. Some guy was trying to talk to her, so Wade forgot his turn and then missed every ball, and Todd finally got fed up. “I'm finishing this table out solo,” he said, removing the cue from Wade's hand. “And you're going to go ask her to dance.”

“She's not dancing with guys. She's here with her friends.”

“I'd bet she'd dance with you.”

Wade took a swallow of his beer. Todd was so in love with Nora that he'd taken up matchmaking. “Nope. Not doing it.”

“Yes, you are, because I'm sick of playing with someone who's so pathetic. You've been shot at. In a war. Surely compared to that, asking Lori to dance is easy.”

Wade shook his head and downed the rest of his beer. “I've never asked a girl to dance.”

Todd stared at him in disbelief. “Not even in high school?”

“Definitely not in high school. Didn't go to dances.”

“Let me guess. You were the guy leaning on the truck outside the dance, a beer in one hand and some girl under your arm?”

“Sometimes. When I was trying to be cool.” But he sure didn't feel cool now. In fact, just the thought of going up to Lori's table made him feel like the most gangly school kid ever.

“I've got two words for you,” Todd said, leaning against the pool table and eyeing him speculatively. “Man up.”

Todd was right. How had he turned into the guy hiding in the corner, too scared to talk to a girl? Wade set his beer down on a shelf along the wall and wiped his palms on his jeans. He squared his shoulders and turned to cross the room. And froze. Something was wrong. The guy was gone and Lori's friends were chatting and laughing, but Lori looked pale. Miserable. She drank the rest of her beer in one gulp, said something to her friends and all but ran out the side door of the bar.

Every instinct Wade had went into protective mode. Without a single conscious thought, he was on his way across the bar, pushing past others to get out the door and into the night. He had to find her. Had to make sure she was okay. Only then could he breathe again.